Chapter 40 - Sealing The Tunnels

 In the silent, damp and fetid environment of the underground tunnels, only the sound of hurried footsteps and panting breaths could be heard. The seven kept the pace as fast as possible, but they were too injured, too tired…

 They didn't expect to have to run after the battle.

Questions were not uttered, for there was no breath for them, or the necessity, for if Pan their lord ran, so must they run. 

 Pan could hear the sound of their footsteps becoming louder as they closed the distance between them. He was expanding vast amounts of essence to feel what the fungi in that tunnel forgotten by the light felt and what came to him tormented him more than words could describe. 

To his right at the other end of the tunnel and across the waters, as well as to his left and on his side of the tunnel, he felt.  

 The gelatinous skin of the Siaks as if they were walking over, stomping, kneading and deeper into the tunnels… Desecrated, he felt the agony of the green in the distance, its grief and its pain. The sensory information filled him with disgust and eagerness and by the time he noticed he was already vomiting up all the lavish breakfast the regent had served him.

 The urge was not alone, it brought with it a bitter science about the prospects of the seven who still ran with all they could.

 The aspirants would arrive five seconds after the first Siak left the left tunnel and three seconds after that there would be four, one second after that and there would be seven and from then on, only death would smile for the seven, or for Pan if he remained in the van hope to save them.

  'I warned them.' Thought Pan before wiping away the trail of blood that was running down his lips from his internal injuries.

 Then he turned and began to run, each step taking a burden on his conscience. 

 "Motherfuckers!" Spat out Pan angrily before stopping his steps and looking at the seven with doubt and fear in his eyes.

'Do you think we made it?' Thought Pan and Mavis responded with a range of feelings filled with determination and acceptance.

 There was now two-fifths of essence left in his body, he was fractured, bleeding and breathing hard and every action hurt like hell. But there was something about his bloodshot eyes and a little hidden by the brown hair that had grown to his shoulders in these months.

 And when the light of the torch that one of the seven carried illuminated him.  For a moment, his shadow looked grand.

 "Run, don't stop!" Pan ordered and soon after a tangle of roots came out of his back, he was feeding Mavis everything he had so she was beyond her normal capabilities.

  The large cluster of thorns then collided with the entrance to the left tunnel and shrieks of pain could be heard, seconds after the wannabes passed Pan and as ordered by Pan, they didn't dare stop. Especially after hearing the dozens of wails from the Siaks who were hit by the roots.

 As for Pan himself, he remained, took a deep breath and activated the clarity state one last time. 

 He could feel his heart against his ribs, the rise and fall of his chest, hear the roots writhing to the left, the heat of the torch growing farther down his back and the fungus climbing to the right.

 "What is he doing?" Shouted the awakened one to the six with doubt in his voice. He looked like he wanted to go back.

 "Don't come back," replied the lithe woman, looking back for a moment, there was gratitude in her eyes as well as guilt etched into her face.

 "Does he want to defeat them all by himself?" He asked more to himself than to others the insulter as he wrapped his arm around his waist to slow the bleeding from a wound.

 "No… He wants to sacrifice himself," replied the woman sadly, looking ahead and into the light ahead at the end of the basement. She understood Pan's actions.

 Everyone understood, he wanted to sacrifice himself, for mere aspirants, who barely bothered to listen to him. That conclusion filled everyone with guilt to the bone, but they couldn't stop running, they couldn't do anything anyway.

 When the wannabes were seconds away from exiting the tunnels they looked back. Pan stood with his back to them in silence, calmly combed his hair back, bent down and took his sword between the roots without haste, before standing up straight again, he looked almost… Pacific.

 The blood that dripped from the roots and the muffled screams behind it were the only indication of his struggle. Then beside him the dust rose and the ground cracked as if something heavy had fallen, seconds after another fell closer and another and so on.

 The last thing the seven saw was Pan retreating the roots of the left tunnel and using them to break the fragile old roof, sealing the tunnels.